


2

by JustASuicideCase



Series: Smoke and Guns [2]
Category: The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Flashback, Minor Character Death, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 19:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20120233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustASuicideCase/pseuds/JustASuicideCase





	2

Cameron advanced inside the grand abandoned house, preparing himself to face his greatest menace. The wooden white door easily swung open because of its old age. Wooden floor, once a beautiful chestnut brown, is now a dull umber and covered in at least an inch of dust. About five feet from the entrance, the floor caved in and the wood now rotted. To the right, there were two huge arches leading further into the house. To the left, a large, fancy set of stairs with white handrails which also lead further into the home, from the bottom floor, he could easily see three more large entrances.

Rustling from within the house caught Cameron’s attention. While he didn’t doubt that mice lived in the place, he still stood still as he analyzed the situation. A figure appeared in the doorway, the small handgun in their right hand pointed at Cameron.

The male had sandy blonde hair, a dark gold 5 o'clock shadow accompanied. His lean figure, not only covered mostly in their loose clothing but also with tattoos. They covered almost every inch of skin in ink, other than his head. This man, the one holding Cameron’s life in his empty hand, was the leader of the rival gang that went by Scott.

He raised his hands above his head as Scott stomped closer to him. “What the fuck do you want, Fitz?” Cameron looked down the barrel of the enemy’s handgun.

“I just want to talk, Scott.” The gun didn’t move. “I’m unarmed. You can see for yourself.” Scott slowly stalked over and searched him with one hand while the other still held the gun to his head. After several minutes of searching Cameron, he seemed satisfied.

He lowered the gun and slid it into the holster on his hip. “What the fuck do you want Fitz?” he repeated his question. Cameron slowly lowered his hands, “I want to talk peace with you.”

“What is there to talk about? I’ve already told what I require.”

“I know, but can’t we compromise?”

“No. Give up your territory, then we will stop our little war.”

Cameron pinched the bridge of his nose, tired of his rival’s childish behavior. “You are so fuckin childish, y'know?” Scott’s humorless chuckle bounced off of the abandoned home’s bare walls. “You only say that because you know that you’re losing.”

He fought the urge to flip him off and walk away; he needed to find a compromise with the man. Cameron sucked in a breath then slowly released it, dust particles fleeing out of the way. “Is there any other way to stop our feud? Name anything else, and I’ll do it.”

Scott paused as if in thought, hand softly stroking his growing beard on his chin and indigo eyes to the ceiling. After several long, silent seconds, he responded.

“Either you give me all of your territory-”

“I said a different way, you fucking idiot.”

“Or that bodyguard of yours.”

“I don’t trade people, you sick bastard. Is there any other way?”

Cameron crossed his arms and unconsciously tapped his foot against the rotted floor. Scott, yet again, lowly chuckled. He loathed the sound. He circled him, a cat torturing its prey before pouncing and killing it.

“Is it because you can trade people, or that you can trade him?” Scott’s baritone voice dully sounded through the old home.

Before Cameron could respond, Scott continued on, “Anyone can see it, Fitz. The lingering stares. Fleeting touches. The urge to protect the man you pay to save you.” Cameron’s eye twitched is stress and anger.

“You did the most asinine mistake anyone could have the misfortune of making, my beloved rival.” Scott continued to circle him, inching closer to Cameron until they were barely touching. He could feel his breath against his face.

“You”

Scott poked his upper back, Cameron knew the next words that would come out of his mouth, he felt his body vibrate in fury.

“Fell”

Scott’s finger harshly jabbed his left bicep. Cameron’s limbs tensed, fight-or-flight intensely kicking in as adrenaline coursed through his blood.

“For”

Next spot was his chest. His eyes darted to the holster on the shorter’s hip, a gun loaded with at least one bullet weighed on it. A bullet meant for the place between Cameron’s eyes.

“Him”

He felt the warmed handle of a pistol tightly gripped in his right hand, aimed at his pleading rival’s head. The recoil came when he squeezed the trigger, forcing the slightly older to an untimely demise.

Scott fell to his knees, a look of shock plastered on his recently deceased face. His eyes desperately tried to look at the gaping, bloody hole in his forehead. His mouth was agape from his desperate attempts to save his life with his superior vocabulary.

Shouts came from the floor above the chaos, soon accompanied by the heavy footsteps of three men. It scared him, so Cameron did the only thing he knew to do in these situations.

Run.

Cameron turned and bolted to the front doors, almost ripping them off the hinges as he made his escape. Screams sounded from behind him, signaling others to chase after the tall New Zealander.

He scolded himself as his body worked in perfect unison to flee from his pursuers. One half scolded him for putting everyone’s safety at risk while the other was more concerned of his own. One thing they both agreed upon was how ludicrous attempting such a plan was.


End file.
